


Guide

by sanctuary_for_all



Series: Home and Hollow [3]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Future Fic, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 06:13:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8786710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuary_for_all/pseuds/sanctuary_for_all
Summary: Ichabod approaches impending fatherhood the same way he does anything else - by researching the hell out of it. Some things, however, you just have to do on faith. (Future fic)





	

Abbie’s definition of “surreal” had changed a lot over the last few years, an unsurprising side effect of stopping apocalypses and fighting the forces of darkness on a regular basis. When your husband was born in the 1700s, your brother-in-law was occasionally a wendigo, and one of your official duties as sheriff was keeping everyone else from finding out about the monsters, even the strangest things eventually ended up feeling as normal as a morning cup of coffee.

Somehow, though, watching Ichabod studying “How To Dad Your Way Through The Delivery” with the same focus he normally devoted to centuries-old journals felt like the ground under her feet had tilted. He’d checked an entire stack of books out of the library the day after she’d told him she was pregnant, and she knew she shouldn’t be surprised to find him methodically working his way through the pile.

But the idea of marriage and children had always been distant, formless things, theoretical possibilities she hadn’t wanted to shut the door on but had never really expected to come her way. Especially during those early years as a Witness, when death had always seemed like it was right around the corner, the idea had seemed more impossible than whatever supernatural bad guy they’d been attempting to defeat that week.

And now that she was here, curled up on a couch next to her husband and their son or daughter taking shape inside her, she realized she’d been far more prepared for the fighting and monsters than she’d ever been for this.

She pushed aside a flicker of panic as Ichabod looked up from the book with a faintly pained expression. “It says here that it’s the father’s responsibility to take still photos and video of the delivery.” He hesitated. “Is that….”

Abbie smiled a little, knowing what he was really asking. “If anyone points a camera of any kind at me while I’m delivering this baby, I will break it.”

He let out a breath, clearly relieved. “I agree. There are some moments that, while important, should not be recorded for posterity.” He looked back down at the book, brow furrowing in annoyance. “I’m afraid I’ll have to return to the library for better resource materials. The majority of these books speak to the prospective fathers as if they’re easily distractible children rather than the grown men I should hope they are.”

She set down the case file she’d only been pretending to read, turning towards him. “You know, you don’t have to read any of them if you don’t want to.”

“That would leave me completely ignorant, which is an even less desirable situation.” His expression turned rueful. “When confronted by the unknown, I hunt for whatever understanding of it I can find.” He lifted a hand. “It is all I know how to do.”

Abbie sighed, laying a hand against her stomach. “You’re better off than me. I don’t think any of my skill sets are going to be much help when it comes to raising this baby.”

Ichabod’s brow lowered. “You’ll be an excellent mother.”

“Oh, really?” She raised an eyebrow. “My mom was too busy holding the inside of her own head together to be a parent, and my dad couldn’t handle parenting at all.” She pressed her lips together, regret tasting bitter in the back of her throat. “And we already know I’m a runner, just like my dad. I’m not going to leave, but there’s still no telling what I’ll do to this poor kid.”

“Abbie.” Ichabod’s voice was gentle as he brushed a bit of hair away from her face. “Would you trust me with our child?”

Her brow furrowed, not sure what he was asking but certain of her answer. “Absolutely.”

His voice softened even further, echoing with old sadness. “Even knowing about Jeremy?”

She felt an answering ache in her own chest. “That wasn’t on you, Ichabod,” she murmured, kissing his shoulder. “You didn’t get a chance with him.”

He pulled her closer. “And you are not your parents. There is no one I would rather have as the mother of my child.”

Abbie closed her eyes. “I left Jenny.”

Ichabod pressed a kiss against her hair. “If we were all defined by the mistakes we have made in the past, we would all be damned. If you will not condemn me for mine, leftenant, I beg you not to condemn yourself for yours.”

She squeezed her eyes shut more tightly, fighting back the sting of tears, then opened them again as she finally let herself relax against him. “I still have no idea what I’m doing,” she managed, deliberately making her voice light. She shifted her head to look up at him. “Maybe I should start reading some of those guidebooks.”

“First, we will need to begin by locating more effective guidebooks.” He smiled a little. “As I said, the volumes that were recommended to me have proven spectacularly unhelpful.”

She felt her own lips start to curve upward. This was hardly the first time she’d plunged into the unknown with Ichabod by her side, and it had always turned out okay. Who’s to say it wouldn’t work out this time, too? “Maybe you’re just being too hard on them,” she teased.

“Oh, really?” He turned and picked up another one of the books, flipping through it one-handed until he came to whatever page he’d been looking for. “Do not complain that your back or hand hurts during the delivery,” he read out loud. “It will not be welcome.”

Abbie held back a chuckle. “Hey, I’m sure there are guys out there who need to hear that.”

Ichabod made an annoyed sound. “I come from a time where men were not allowed anywhere near the delivery, and yet I somehow still knew without being told that complaining about minor discomfort when your wife is actively suffering is highly inappropriate. The idea that anyone else might not have the same awareness is absolutely appalling.”

“Maybe you should teach classes.” She looked up at him, gauging his expression. “All joking aside, you know I might do actual damage to your hand, right?” She knew that wasn’t the way he’d been raised, but she already knew that she would absolutely need Ichabod by her side.

His expression turned fond. “I would expect nothing less from a warrior such as yourself.”   

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out my weekly posts and original short fiction on my [blog](http://jennifferwardell.blogspot.com) or say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com)!


End file.
